


Broken

by shadowglove88



Series: The Morningstar Series [1]
Category: Constantine (2005), Smallville
Genre: Afterworld, Angels are Dicks, Broken Chloe Sullivan, Demons Are Assholes, Gen, Hell, Hell Fic, Hell is hell, Mental Anguish, Mental Conditioning, Mental Torture, Sequel to the Apocalypse Nigh series, Time is different in Hell, all the feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-02
Updated: 2018-09-02
Packaged: 2019-07-05 16:14:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15867180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shadowglove88/pseuds/shadowglove88
Summary: After being killed, Chloe's soul is sent to hell. But there might be a light at the end of the tunnel and a rescue by an unexpected person.





	Broken

"She killed you." The face in front of her sneered. "The person you trusted the most, she drove the spear through you without a second thought."

Chloe sat on the heated ground, breath hard as there seemed to be no air in the burning sky.

"And your lovers, they turned against you too," another whispered to her right. "One accepted the angel that was supposed to kill you, and the other went to cheer him on."

She closed her eyes, silent.

She'd learnt long ago not to cry.

The tears evaporated off of her skin long before they reached her chin anyway.

And it wasn't as if she'd get any sympathy.

No.

They'd delight in any sign of turmoil.

"You sacrificed  _so much_ for them, and they were so easy to turn against you," yet another announced in a piteous way. "They were so easy to fool into thinking that  _you_  were really the one in charge, that  _you_  were the one doing all those things and not Prince Lumiel."

It was true.

Every single thing they said was true.

 _Lumiel_  had been right.

When you loved, you only got hurt.

Those you loved, they were...

She closed her eyes tighter, images of Lois and Sam and Dean flashing so mockingly before her.

They'd all told her they loved her, that they'd protect her, that they wouldn't allow anything to happen to her.

And yet they'd been the ones to pound the nails into her coffin.

Figuratively, and yet it pained even more.

Especially... especially Lois.

Chloe would have let the whole world go to hell for her cousin. It pained to realize that the brunette hadn't felt the same.

Sure, Chloe might have tried to be brave and begged them to kill her, but deep down inside she'd been a terrified child pleading with those she'd trusted to protect her. They hadn't. Dean had accepted Michael so Michael could kill her, Sam had obviously agreed with that and was fighting against her, and Lois had ultimately been the one to  _kill_ her. Lois had sent Chloe's soul to hell. 

 _Hell_.

Where she'd been for so many years it seemed like eternity.

Lois would have moved on with John and maybe started a family. Sam and Dean would have found others as well. Everyone would have married, been merry, and died... and obviously gone to heaven to enjoy their rewards for defeating the Big Bad Monster.

And yet here she was, still here, still being tormented night and day.

She'd thought that hell was physical torment, and for many it was, but for  _her -_ for  _her_  hell was a mental anguish and endless torment.

It never stopped.

She didn't sleep.

 _They_  didn't sleep.

No moment's rest could be found.

Then again she'd accepted Lumiel as her own.

Maybe she deserved this.

* * *

A lot of her dead relatives were in hell.

That brought little comfort to her as she walked upon the uncomfortably hot ground barefoot, watching them being torn to pieces over and over again only to be reassembled and revived so the process could begin once more. She'd stopped trying to help them a long time ago. A hundred years of seeing it happening nonstop desensitized one to such things.

"Lived their lives happily," one of her tormentors whispered, referring to Lois, Sam and Dean, like they always did.

"You never had the chance to live a moment of yours," another ran his claws down her arm in a nearly comforting way.

It made it hurt even more.

"They celebrated when you died," a third snarled in her ear. "Raised a toast and cheered."

She continued staring as great uncle Ian was torn while screaming for mercy, as his captors cackled their glee.

"Did they ever really love you?" The first cooed, claws trailing through her hair.

"No they didn't," another answered the question. "Because love doesn't  _exist_."

They were right.

"Love is only an illusion."

There was silence.

It took Chloe a moment to realize that the one who'd uttered those broken words was  _her_.

* * *

She lay curled in a ball, wanting to sleep so desperately.

But she also wanted to hurt them.

Hurt them so bad.

It was  _their_  fault that she was here.

She wanted to  _kill_  them.

Wanted to send  _them_  here.

Love.

How idiotic could she have been?

No one had loved her.

No one.

Lumiel had been using her.

Lois had killed her.

Dean had tried to kill her.

And Sam... Sam hadn't seemed to give a damn either way.

Her eyes narrowed.

She wanted them to  _suffer_  for what she'd been put through.

She hated them.

Hated them more than she'd thought possible.

 _They_  were the ones who'd made her the empty shell she was today.

Around her, her tormentors cooed wordlessly.

They didn't need to say anything anymore.

She'd already broken.

* * *

She was shivering when her eyes opened, and yet instead of the hellish wasteland Metropolis she'd been tormented in for so long, she found herself inside of a small bedroom that had central air. It was the most glorious thing she'd ever felt for far too long, and for a moment she half wondered if she was in heaven, but very quickly she realized that could not be it. This was another form of torture, there couldn't be another explanation for it. The demons had waited for her to fall asleep and then had...

The blonde paused, realizing that she'd been asleep.

She didn't sleep.

Hadn't for so  _long_.

"Ah, you're awake."

She squeaked and turned in bed, pulling the sheets up to her chest as she stared at the pale man with dark hair and eyes who stood in the doorway. "What sort of hell is this?"

He cracked a whimsical smile. "And I thought I was the only one who thought L.A. was hell on earth."

She frowned, confused. "What?"

"You were, shall we say, _extradited_ , in a sense," he announced uneasily after a moment's thought. "You weren't supposed to serve such a long sentence, but some bastard misfiled your case and it took them  _forever_  to find it and bring it to review." He snorted. "I think one of the bastards you refused was in for a little revenge. Angels and their egos. Pitiful."

" _Angels?"_  The word struck terror and disgust into Chloe's heart.

 _No. Not again. Please_!

"I'm human." He seemed to understand and share her feelings towards the angelic douchebags. "They wouldn't tell me much about your case, only that you'd done your best given your 'ignorance' and that you deserved a second chance. So since I'm the Poster Child of Second Fucking Chances, I was instructed to guide and teach you."

"Teach me what?" She asked, so confused. Was this real? Was this not some new form of torment?

"How to kill demons."

Her eyes narrowed, face made up in disgust. "You're a  _hunter_."

Like  _John_.

Like  _Sam_  and  _Dean_.

A growl escaped her lips.

"No, actually, but it's somewhat close. I hate most hunters I know." He took out a nicotine gum and popped it into his mouth, beginning to chew. "I think of myself as a contracted assassin. Or, a Bounty Hunter who rounds up and beats the crap out of the bad guys the Celestial Lazy Assholes are too lazy to send Downstairs themselves."

She looked up at him, not knowing what to make of him, but when she looked into his eyes she saw the same anguish, the same betrayal from loved ones, and the same darkness within.

He was broken inside, just like she was.

"My name's Chloe," she whispered from the bed, deciding not to look the gift horse in the mouth.

She was out of  _there,_ not in hell anymore, that was all that mattered.

He nodded, as if able to hear her thoughts and agreed.

"The name's Constantine," he introduced himself while chewing on his nicotine gum. "John Constantine."


End file.
